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Ashley Chapman Jul 2018
Pressesd tenderly,
your carnal flower opens,
its butterfly released,
hovers like a hummingbird
drinking from the bill.

Oh, I too would steal you away
and cage you happily,
to get under your black-fringed skirt; 
to see that pretty dress,
fly off once more,
and see you bare;
burned now forever in my banks,
a first sight,
of dark curls!

As I think of it,
my desire stirs,
but of us
I have already masturbated twice:
hips pinned,
sliding over our wet perspiring bellies,
in our jungle heat:
'cause in the firmament of our embrace
- it's hot -
where glued we **** into each other,
stoking flames,
until sleep,
when we disappear from each other.
My mind crowds,
with niggling neurotic inanities;
yours with manic dreams where bed-wetting criminals in cages beg to be freed,
before better spaces overtake.

When I awake,
I am lying next to you,  
Gwen over the horizon of your fertile valley,
a mountain,
white and reposed.
murmuring desire for me.
I can't wait to answer.

It is late,
late morning,
and we are all half asleep.
You have your back to me,
as we lie,
rubbing feet,
stroking hands,
(the oiled bulb at the end of a finger),
your fine shoulders,
(that delicate but persistent bone in your wrist that stretches with pointed elegance);
as quietly inside,  
(warmly enveloped),
my couched *****,  
rocks us:
each diffusing into the other
like the early morning brew.

Lust and love,
which for a good while on edge had been:
the weeks,
faint promises from afar;
sometimes a little closer,
our shadows in daylight cross,
as one over the other storms;
and once (or twice),
a sleeve brushes,
even better,
hair crackles,
as a speaking lip touches lobe,  
and for a moment,
taking in the other's scent,
a hint sublimely overpowers.

And these,
dearest of fancies,
are just some,
with which to penetrate your mind,
as you have mine:
the energy of my yielding tenderness,
inviting you to complete me,
as I spread for you with desire.

Much later,
those daring looks you have,
the way you walk our stage:
your beautiful elongated face,
those quick-fire arousing eyes,
your sultry self-assuredness,
your pre-possessing self.

I could talk about your couple,
of generosity,
reaching up,
beyond mere comprehension:
of the fact that I like Gwen
(his love gift for you, me);
but actually,
in truth,
I prefer to take this moment to make love to you;
to say how wrapped I am,
folded in your limbs,
in our mingling sweat;
how with your joy,
you touch my desires,
into yours,
so they flow,
run rather:
honeysuckle from your blessed nymphae.

You love my smell,
you say,
and I dream of gathering you in pheromones,
of drugging you,
of intoxicating you,
so once again you will find me,
take me,
have me.
Entice you once more like a creature from its shell:
where I can ravish you,
all of you,
lay naked to me,
your very bones;
those fine elbows,
those knees I would like to ******* over;
wash their smooth surfaces in my come:
from these cliff heights,
rain ***** on the rocks below.

To once more cast aside your socks and get at your toes,
to pour oil on 'em,
to rub and squeeze' em,
while in the moist cavern of your insides,
we ****,
half washed over by our own tide.
And as we do,
I quail,
speaking sweet nothings of appreciation;
from full lips,
your sounds return,
the hypnotic rhythm of your breath:
I engorge and in our labyrinth,
- the maiden and the bull -
we consume ourselves.

Sweet Lentiform,
you did it,
you got me rolling in flesh,
lusting after your intimate parts,
wanting you in bed as I know you must have me:
pulling me on you,
kissing and biting;
my arousal in your palm,
as you run a curved finger over my nethers.

lying prone,
lying ******,
never unconsumed,
please us,
with more;
so rarely,
unfucked even for a pause,
nothing doing more than sleeping and carousing;
our sustenance barely enough to keep us at it,
an occasional comic thrown in.
throw the ******* comic at me,
will you?
Beat my ******* flesh with it if you like.
Anything to see you standing in all your pearly naked glory!

And if you can,
keep texting me,
so I can hang on your every word like a ******* puppy!
skin tight,
gorgeously wild,
woman ...
Now pull me by my **** into your **** -
where I love it best.
Umi Dec 2017
The soil gives birth to beautiful flowers,
Therefore can it be called a "mother" ?
I asked myself this question for hours
But without a ***** it wouldn't bother
It would be lifeless, water is the only thing it devours
Oh mother earth, your beauty fascinates me
Oh dear Sunflower, have you found your special bee ?
Pollination is important, otherwise there wouldn't be flowers
Oh cloud, give us your water, so we can grow, we can see
Until winter arrives we will be filled with glee

~ Umi
Andrew Oct 2017
The rivers channel rain
The way I channel pain
I begin to see the futility
In denying pain's utility
Pain takes on a ****** nature
And becomes my intellectual savior

I shatter the mirror
And swallow the shards
The pain becomes clearer
So my ******* get hard
Glass fills my lungs
They're profusely bleeding
From words that stung
Being my daily greeting

***** shoots out from my gun
When I cut myself for fun
My hose starts spewing
Once vultures start chewing
It's the only way I can cope
When it's pain that gropes

I live in a world that mixes *** and violence
I live in a world that mixes *** and silence
Where the painkillers
Become the pain creators
And our life's filler
Is being pain traders

A bull has charged through my library for a decade
At this point every bovine movement cuts like a blade
He creates pain that lasts
When every day becomes my past

I had a dream
A sorcerer controlled my body
But he only wanted pieces of me
Bones started snapping out of my skin
Blood spurting everywhere
I awoke to ***** down there
I guess life isn't always fair
When I dream to avoid stares
The real pain comes when I care

When the privileged boycott
The impoverished boy's cot
He learns to ******* in the streets
And gains an appreciation for feet
Feet that trample
The pain is ample
When people powerfully push him away
So he decides to go against the grain
But there's no peace to be attained
And all he's left with is pain
sammy Jun 2018
i sit with my legs uncrossing on the toilet seat, 7th period
smells of puberty
of wasted ambition and scathing regret of everything
of whispered secrets and sore thighs, ***** dripping out between your lips into the bowl
of tortured angst, of pulling your skin taut and drawing the blade against you over and over, for trusting someone like him
of hope that the next day will be better than today (it isn't)
of high school.
written in 2018
Heidi Shavill Aug 2016
"Friend's" like you are a dime a dozen,
     And I have far too many...
Smiles don't light up your face, and depth?
    You don't have any...

Transparent is the color of your eyes,
your dismal soul is ****...
Beyond the nose on your face,
there is a world you disregard smugly...

I've tried to gain perspective,
    and see **** from your shoes...
Honestly, I can't fathom,
    relating to your views...

Believe me I don't trust you,
     I never will, in fact...
Because you've done me *****,
    And stabbed me in the back...

How can you keep track,
    Of all the lies you spew???
I suppose it's relatively easy,
When spewing lies is all you do...

I deeply regret sharing with you,
   My darkest, inner demons...
God I wish your mother,
   would have swallowed your dads *****...

Now that it's finally off my chest,
    There's one thing left to do...
Consider you my enemy,
    And embrace "friends"
who are true.

Heidi Shavill
You know who you are
Lucas Jul 18
crickets tower over austin
as witness to
localized flow
and twin connection.

the regular season
of molasses and ice
paints the environment
with laconic sibilance
resembling slow ******
in the woods.

it's too long
as ignominious culture
puts down the war effort
and puts forth equity.
we are together
and are going to be together
for a long time.

weave the rug
as monads
and lovers
weave long kisses
into lascivious past times
and dance themselves
into flurry
and scorching gaze.

please don't leave just yet,
the opposition wails out
over tendon
and marrow
that stands clashing with metal
and guided entropy.
the war effort,
the sorrow,
turns to gleaming blood and *****
as we all prepare
for the summer moon
to break forth
and tell us a good story,
at least once more.
will19008 May 6
filthy whiskey
smoking asphalt alleyways
roaring ******* windowsills
shuddering stoops

midnight money
shaking subway traffic
neon red hotels
battered archangel blues

starving madness
sweet ecstatic ***
naked eyes lounging
******* harlequin ******

blemished evenings
concrete amnesia
blind hungry dreams

jukebox consciousness
bald drunken incantations
suicide waitresses
the holy pavement angel

tenement jazz
scribbling *****
screaming delight

disgorged rivers
tender moans
pure unshaven salvation

he so lion-like
I feel like a nervous zebra
in my black&white stripped dress

he looks upon me
as prey...I pray
move slowly away

he stalks me across
the Serengeti living room
I spill champagne down my cleavage

I chat to
( and hide behind )
a baboon-like man

Lion licks his lips
he lets an oyster slip
down his throat in one...gulp!

he spears an olive
on a cocktail stick
I Olive can only stare

Lion sits on the arm
of my armchair
"Well...well...look who we have here?"

I startle
try to bolt away
his eyes pin me to the chair

too terrified to say
"No!" I say "YES. . !"
What am I saying!

we have ***
in the upstairs loo
outside some curses

a pool of *****
outside the loo door
I step daintily over it

his eyes track
other prey
growls "See ya around babe!"

I cry into my dry
***** running down my left leg
when all the birds have broken their wings
i will find comfort in the warmth of your blood on my hands.
time tells nothing
i reminisce about torn seams
and ***** dreams
as i scrape out remnants of the
purity trapped in the mildew under your floorboards

O Hearken! the lilies are singing to us!
(forever entranced by the acacia with the broken branches)
i have swallowed the frail bodies of the nightingales
and i have promised to protect them with my own flesh;
put your hands within me and you'll know the breaking of their hollow bones

Our God sees everything! how could anyone have a mother?
your ivory rib cage shatters under the weight of a thousand Saviors
as the unforeseen expanses of the universe
blot out what was left of your conscience
(snapped like a toothpick in His holy fingers)
just like those bitter nights when i hear
cassiopeia screaming to be freed of heaven’s chokehold.

O Hearken! kneel for The Great Reprieve!
when all the birds have broken their wings—
oh mercy you, oh mercy me
i have returned!! hello everyone i have missed HP dearly!!
Suffering is a hovering

mother ship made of cheap napkins

hardened by ***** spilled

in shame and shadow

by (fill in the blank).

It's a crumbling mobile home

awaiting the day it's replaced

by the space it defamed

with it's sloppy symmetry.

We could raze it with a lazy

string of syllables, but we...

We flicker; pixels on the screen

of a digital camera discovered in a yard sale

under the tyrant-sun of a southern summer


"I'll give ya four for it.", we mutter to the deity

sipping ice water in their plastic lawn chair.

Teresa Aug 21
Disney and Sony
They are *****
Yelling and screaming mostly at Sony
But yet it is all part of the plan
Got to keep the bedroom demands

Spider-Man ain’t going no where
Disney and Sony’s secret love affair
Sony already signed with Venoms behind
Disney slurping all the ***** and creamin

Tom Holland is drunk with Tom Collins
Exciting you see, frustrating as it seems
Sony and Disney laughing all just because
Everyone is starting all the crazy fuss

Re-releases golden showers final hours
*** is better in front of others we together
Can’t ****** if it’s at the end game
Insane is the main part of the fame

It’s already been signed you see
The most fun is watching in ecstasy
We don’t give a **** what you say
It will all be announced this Labor Day

Because we work hard and stay hard
Didn’t come this far
So start the fire
Because we already **** tony McGuire
jonas ernust Aug 2
2 candles here and a child's liver
A glass of glue and dry *****. Grindr bears saying hi now and you better tell them no I'm watching TV with my cancelled subscription and that's not good enougj. And do people even still read poetry besides edgy girls?
Will I still be unhappy after I've vomited 12567 times?  
A d will I still clutch the hand that insists on gagging me a d suffocating me whilst I count clouds?
I will still be dead and rotting in a dirt mound and so will you, but you pretend you won't. Instead we insist on occupying ourselves with mindless consumerism and shallow entertainment until we can't think anymore. I'm part of the problem, im distracting from what should be the goal, to shake you violently into convulsion until the spirit fills you and spits you into the abyss where there
are no more habits or fears. Just a state of being. Like clay half molded,
Neither happy nor Content, just clay. just.        clay
JP Dec 2018
My dearest friend
revealed a secret that
Once he had a dream
that "Trickster Hermes"
came to his house as female
Seduced him and
pushed him in bed and stolen
his ***** and
few years later
he met her lost girlfriend
and saw her Son
almost resembles like him...
Yo step into my world like KRS one my gun
Blows away the sun dunned your done no fun
In the dark lurk near the scariest parks
Found my heart at the bottom of an abyss
My fist cruise through the foggy mist dismiss
Wack lyricist and these lyrics will shift
Ya back disc slowly sip the cola jack crisp no lisp
Only to ya chick who's loving it shovin' it
Like the gangsta I am eat green eggs and ham
Dont give a **** suckas cookin' like a grand slam
Keep the street bases loaded imploded quoted
From the drug bible feed bullets to my rivals
Cuz its the survival of the fittest the wittiest
Colder than the coldest im celcius minus
Three million degrees make tracks tongue bleed
Once i cut on the beat nasty movin' Pistol Pete
Bury a **** with one powerful hit ahhh ****
Yosef doing damage from mics i manage
My guns beaminsh freak a bad chica who's Spanish
Let my runs of my hands handle this
See the styles to crisp chickens run from this
Heat to a roast no need to boast none come close
To skills choppin' to H a v o c next to P
Lead by the Triples P's ***** pedigrees and prodigy no apology
For the blood sprees catching wars glee
Creed of demons sealed with nature *****
Got em dreamin' down memory lane
Simplicity black Mark Twain stain brains
I could flatten a rocky terrains strains
A mustard seed moving mountains
Sitting at the fountain of youth sounding
Off with the twenty one gun salute **** your
We ***** as mobsters in black pinned strip zoot suits
“I too love everything that flows: rivers, sewers, lava, *****, blood, bile, words, sentences. I love the amniotic fluid when it spills out of the bag. I love the kidney with its painful gall-stones, its gravel and what-not; I love the ***** that pours out scalding and the clap that runs endlessly; I love the words of hysterics and the sentences that flow on like dysentery and mirror all the sick images of the soul...”
― from Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller
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